


Torn

by DarkShadeless



Series: SWTOR - collection [20]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Honey, Other, could be any of them - why is this tag so fucked up, if you catch on to that that is, it's saved as wrong all caps, oh Theron, poor spybean, srsly, the one where you hear your soulmate when they sing, yes it really is that vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21866212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless
Summary: You’d think in Theron's line of work he would… well. Figure it out. Point is, he doesn’t.
Relationships: Theron Shan/Any Imperial Protagonist
Series: SWTOR - collection [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/906084
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48





	Torn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bunnyloverXIV](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnyloverXIV/gifts).



> Soulmate AU: You hear your soulmate when they sing, from the moment they are born, so you can forever duet. 
> 
> This is actually an AU of a story I haven't finished yet (you know which one, bunnyloverXIV)  
> XD enjoy
> 
> The song Theron is hung up on is Torn by Ava Max. Those lyrics are the gift that keeps on giving, I swear.

Theron doesn’t figure it out for the longest time. Funny that, huh? You’d think in his line of work he would… well. Point is, he doesn’t.

He’s not a great singer but he’s still a musical kind of guy. It helps him get into the zone. When he has caught the tail-end of a mission, more often than not Theron will hole up with the same song running on repeat for hours, spacing out over his reports. Stress and cover-identities melt away under the beat of whatever he is feeling that night. After the first few runs he knows the lyrics by heart and doesn’t have to pay attention anymore to sing along.

Meditation, only more productive. What’s not to like?

It gives him a single minded focus he doesn’t like to fall into around others, even if most of his colleagues _wouldn’t_ find a way to murder him and disappear his body after sixteen repetitions of any given shard-pop track, never mind sixty.

That doesn’t mean Theron doesn’t slip up and fall back into the habit of humming under his breath around them sometimes. The duller the task the more likely that is to happens and honestly, indexing intel is as dull as it gets.

 _‘Do I file this under Sith or just A for asshole?’_ Is a guy who was probably Force sensitive worth a mention in the Sith tag? They’re not _all_ Sith. Not everyone gets the difference but Theron does.

Eh, better be save than sorry. He ticks the box, already halfway into the groove. There’s this song he hasn’t been able to get out of his head all day and it’s just about perfect for this. A clear, looping rhythm that you can just fall into, energetic enough to keep his mood up. Give him the right tune and he can index all day, not that Theron is going to tell his boss that.

If only he could remember what it’s called… damn. Maybe it will come to him.

He manages to stay quiet at first but when he really gets into the groove that’s a lost cause. His colleagues can be glad he remembers to keep it to a mumble. “You’re contagious, baby, love when you love me, hate me, the way you rock, rock, rock my body lately...” Really, there is something about this track that just _gets_ him, hits a nerve. Doesn’t make it easier to keep it to himself. “You set the rain on fire, I wish the lows were higher! Wish I could stop, stop, stop to save me…”

_Oh, I wanna stay, wanna walk out the door. Right now baby I’m torn. I can’t get enough, can’t take any more. Right now baby I’m torn._

_You dry my tears and make it pour, you show me love and give me war…_

“Seriously, Shan?” is the rude awakening Theron is subjected to thirteen, or maybe thirty, repetitions later. His index queue says it’s probably closer to thirty than thirteen. Damn and he was doing so _well_. Who is harshing his buzz now?

Jonas, that’s who. Of course it is.

The stuck up prick is glowering down at him from over the top of his own stack of report-pads. Theron glowers right back, much as tries not to, riding the tail-end of his ruined rhythm-induced good mood and already missing it. “What?”

Jonas snorts and shakes his head. “Imp charts? Really? How long have you been in the field?” _That_ drags Theron right back down planetside. What the hell? That’s… not right is it? “Sometimes I worry about you, Shan.”

There are more reasons than one for why Theron doesn’t like to sing around other people. He keeps slipping up, picking shit that he has to have heard on a mission and can’t seem to forget about.

Yes, you’d think he would realize what it is he’s doing.

He doesn’t, not until years later, when he contacts someone he really shouldn’t have to. Lana said she would be their go-between, just to be safe, but Lana is meditating and the damn facility is coming down around their agent’s ears-

So Theron takes one for the team, no matter what they planned, opens the line and when the person on the other end of it answers it’s in a voice he knows almost as well as his own.

Almost. They don’t usually _talk_ to him. He’s more used to them singing.

Kriff.


End file.
